


The Doctor Debate

by luminousgrace



Series: Tumblr Collection [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16689628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminousgrace/pseuds/luminousgrace
Summary: First sentence prompt from jhoomwrites on tumblr:"Are you really going to go to war over something so petty?"





	The Doctor Debate

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is basically going to be somewhere to dump any prompts/challenges I do on tumblr that aren't really long enough to stand on their own. I don't know how much I'll be posting here, but with tumblr being how it is currently I really want to have my work posted somewhere else where I wont lose it!

“Are you really going to go to war over something so petty?” Cas scrubs at his face in the early light, leaning tiredly against the the kitchen counter.

“You bet your ass we are.” Dean jabs a finger at Sam accusingly, who rolls his eyes.

“It’s not that important, Dean!”

Dean bangs his fist on the table, causing his and Sam’s mugs to shake precariously. “Are you seriously telling me that you don’t think Dr. Sexy is hot?”

“He’s good looking!”

“Good looking’s not the same as hot, Sam!”

“Okay, then, yes!” Sam throws his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t think Dr. Sexy is hot!”

Dean sinks back in his chair, sulking. “I can’t believe this, man. My own brother.”

Sam sniffs. “At least I don’t have a weird thing for cowboy boots.”

“It’s not just the boots, okay!”

Sam gives him a look like, “really?” and Dean huffs in frustration. It’s not just the boots, Dean’s sure of it.

Dr. Sexy is the entire package. First of all, there’s his deep voice and brooding stare. Then there’s the perpetual bed-head and 5 o’clock shadow from staying up all night, which lets you know just how much he really cares a lot about his patients, and his fellow co-workers.

Besides, he doesn’t even wear the boots all the time. Lately, Dr. Sexy’s been swapping the boots for a giant doctor’s coat. Which, okay, that’s not normally Dean’s thing either but for some weird reason watching the doctor push up his sleeves in a moment of passion while barking orders in that gravely voice of his really does it for him-

Oh.

Dean’s brain does a record scratch. Eyes wide, he shoots a glance at Cas, who’s staring blearily at his coffee and looking as though he’s contemplating face planting into it.

Cas must sense him looking, because he glances up. “Want me to weigh in?”

Shit.

Dean looks away quickly, face burning. Sam, however, looks like he’s considering it.

Don’t do it don’t do it don’t do it-

“Good idea, Cas.” Fuck. “Why don’t you come be tie breaker.”

Behind him, Dean hears the clink of Cas’s mug as he sets it down somewhere. He glares daggers at his brother, who only smiles obliviously.

Cas shuffles in behind Dean to get a better look. The coffee must not be working, because he sways slightly when he leans in, his hand falling warm and heavy on Dean’s shoulder for balance.

“I suppose I can see the appeal.” Cas’s voice is a deep rumble in Dean’s ear and against his back, and Dean is too focused on not choking on his own tongue to respond.

“But…” Sam needles from somewhere far, far away.

Cas leans in closer, grip tightening reflexively on Dean’s shoulder.

“He’s not really my type.”

Dean feels his mouth go dry.

“Ha!” Sam crows, leaning back in his chair. “That’s 2-1.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Dean swallows thickly, tries to kick his brain back into gear. “Not my fault you both have god-awful taste.”

Cas huffs a laugh, a warm puff of air that fans across the top of Dean’s head. He leans back, but doesn’t move all the way out of Dean’s space, his hand sliding farther up Dean’s shoulder towards his neck.

Sam shoots Dean a triumphant look over his orange juice.

“What is your type then, Cas?”

Dean’s heart rate, still recovering from Cas-proximity, goes into triple time.

Castiel is quiet for a minute, and Dean fidgets, fighting the urge to turn around and see his face.

“I think I prefer the friend.” Cas says finally. “What was his name?” Dean feels Cas’s thumb sweep absently over the back of his neck as he thinks. “Steamy? Foxy?”

Dean is literally going to die.

“Dreamy,” he hears himself whisper. Dr. Dreamy had been a late addition to the show, and the most relatable character in Dean’s opinion. A fellow doctor, he’d been hit by a car while trying to save his brother after an accident. It’d been Dr. Sexy who’d found him on the operating table, putting him back together piece by piece. Needless to say, Dreamy had transferred over and the two had become close over the following seasons. It was clear to Dean that Dreamy was holding a torch for the the guy.

“Oh, that’s it. Thank you.” There’s a shuffling sound as Cas shrugs. “He’s simply more attractive. Although I do find his obviousness to how others feel about him more frustrating than endearing.” Cas gives a long-suffering sigh. “It’s clear that he’s been the object of Dr. Sexy’s affection for some time now. How he’s failed to notice is beyond me.”

Sam laughs, shutting the laptop with a click. “Yeah, I gotta give Dr. Sexy credit for that. The mans gotta have the patience of a saint.”

“I don’t know if I would call cowardice admirable,” Cas says finally, and does he sound wistful?

“Well, who knows,” Sam says, stretching. “Maybe they’ll figure it out eventually.” He drops his dishes in the sink and heads out the door, clapping Dean on the shoulder as he goes by.

Yeah, Dean thinks. Except what if they don’t? What if they keep this dance up for years, skirting around each other, neither daring to make the first move. What if they never get to-

“Dean?”

Dean starts at the touch on his hand, glancing up at Cas’s questioning face.

“Uh, sorry. What did you say?”

“Sam and I are going to head to the library, are you coming?”

“Oh, uh.” Dean coughs, taking a sip of his cold coffee. “You go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright.” Cas says, tapping his hand one more time as he turns to leave. He’s halfway out the door when Dean make up his mind. Fuck it.

“Hey, Cas?”

Cas turns, looking at him intently.

“I hope they, um.” Dean coughs, feels his face burn. “I bet they’ll figure it out.”

Cas smiles at him, eyes softening. “I bet they will, too.”


End file.
